Missing Hope
by bredalot
Summary: Pam and Jim are trying to adjust. Post Gay Witch Hunt.


**Disclaimer: I used to have a mind-killing desk job. If I owned The Office, I'd set them all free. But as it is, they're still stuck, and I'm sorry (but very amused).**

_A/N: This is kind of depressing, more so than usual. I was feeling kind of blah when I wrote it, and that probably came out in it. But I like it._

She can't get used to him not being there. It's been a while (too long), but she still feels lost when she looks at his desk and sees Ryan, makes a face that no one but the camera sees, laughs alone at Michael's stupidity. It seems like the kind of thing she'd get used to; she was with Roy for ten years and she's already used to him not being around. But Jim was the only thing that kept her sane at work, and without him, she can slowly feel her mind going.

She tries to keep herself sane, first by learning how to be alone, then by finding other people to laugh with. But Ryan doesn't like jellybeans and Phyllis won't laugh at anyone else and she's stuck behind this high wall, isolated from the office. She never noticed before how the office doesn't have cubicles (it's probably too small a space) and so everyone can see each other and she's the only one stuck like this. Jim was (_is_) tall, tall enough that the walls around her were nothing and he could lean over them and talk to her. Tall enough so that when she glanced over the wall, he was the first thing she saw (she forgets that she always looked for him first). She misses the way he lounged, the way he leaned back in his chair with his feet on his desk (and is obscurely grateful for Michael's lax policies, because anywhere else he wouldn't have been allowed to lounge). Ryan sits so straight and does his work without looking up and successfully ignores Dwight instead of tormenting him. It's professional, but it's _boring_. And with all his professional attitude, Ryan still doesn't sell as much as Jim did (she ignores the voice that tells her it was his easy charm, because that's the voice that also tells her why she misses him so much). And she just wants someone to be her friend.

So she keeps looking up, forgetting that he isn't there, hoping that maybe this time she won't feel so alone. And she's slowly beginning to get used to the idea of getting used to it, but thinking about that makes her panic because if she gets used to it, she'll be just like everyone else here, doomed and knowing it, but desperately hiding because that's the only way to stay alive. She misses Jim because he gave her hope.

He remembers that week when Pam was on vacation, when he would look up at Reception and see Ryan sitting there and feel completely lost. He feels that in Stamford, but now it's not Pam that he misses (and he knows that part of that is because he's blocked her away in this corner of his mind to keep himself from going insane), but the whole office. He never thought he could possibly miss them, especially when the people in Stamford make him feel much better about having this job. They're educated, intelligent, well-dressed, and superior in every possible way to the Scranton branch. They're even sane (though sometimes he doubts that, before realizing that this is what the world considers sane and his own personal opinions don't really enter into the fact that the entire Scranton office is certifiable).

He never thought he'd miss Dwight, that he would develop this strange affection for this strange man when their entire relationship was based entirely on torment. He never thought that he could miss Angela because she's so much like everyone here except for the fact that she's _not_. He was almost glad to get away from Michael, but his boss here is a boss first and a friend never, a refreshingly professional perspective but one that doesn't brighten Jim's day when all he needs is a bit of stupidity. He'd known that he could miss Phyllis, who was always so nice, and Kevin, with whom he had a strange camaraderie, and Oscar and Toby, who were intelligent and nice and sadly doomed. And then there's Kelly and Ryan and Meredith and Creed and Stanley and the fact that none of these people made any sort of sense and when they were all put into an office together he felt like he had landed in one of those children's books that his nephew likes, the Sideways School or Wayside School or something like that. But at least they appreciated his jokes; the stupid little pranks were a way for everyone to get through the day instead of just for Jim. And he misses them.

He doesn't let himself miss Pam, because that's a dark road that has no ending. He doesn't mention her when he speaks to the cameras, definitely doesn't mention her to his coworkers (they really don't need to know about his idiocy, especially when everyone in Scranton does and soon the whole world will, even if it'll just be that disassociated TV idiocy), doesn't even mention her in his head. He's sealed her off from himself, and sometimes at night he dreams of her and wakes up cold because his bed is empty (even though it always was before and he doesn't know why he finds that disconcerting now), but he still doesn't think about her. He can't let himself have hope.


End file.
